


Uber for Akira

by Das_macht_spass



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aged-Up Character(s), Akechi Goro Lives, Car Sex, Exhibitionism, Goro Akechi is a little shit, M/M, Not Serious, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21974419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Das_macht_spass/pseuds/Das_macht_spass
Summary: It’s been a few years since Akira’s visited Shibuya. What’s the harm in taking an Uber?
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 13
Kudos: 172





	Uber for Akira

The merciless rain shows no signs of letting up, soaking any poor soul caught without an umbrella. Akira Kurusu happens to be one of these luckless saps.

His eyes scan the horizon, looking for a maroon Toyota Aqua. Akira lets out a sad sigh, as he sees no such car. 

To make matters even worse, the wind rages so hard, that it blows the rain sideways, drenching his face. The former Phantom Thief sighs, as his patience starts wearing thin.

He's visiting Shibuya for the first time since leaving for college, and he's so ready to see the old gang again. Text messages couldn't replace heart to hearts after all. If it wasn't for this amateur Uber driver, Akira would already be back at Leblanc. The sole thought of Sojiro's coffee and his old, dusty attic makes him giddy. 

He spots a couple maroon compact cars and even a few Aquas, but none of them fit his Uber driver's description. It seems the universe was intent on punishing Akira.

Akira pouts his lips, the wait for his driver, whose name the app gave as Edo, now closing in on ten minutes. 

By now, the weather had done a number on the poor raven. His sleek, wool, trench coat drips water like a dirty dishcloth, and Akira is really dreading the dry cleaning bill. The temperature drops, and foregoing his red leather gloves proves a regrettable choice. His hands start shivering.

Wanting to kill some time, Akira pulls out his wallet and skims his fingers through its contents. He glances at his old photos with widening eyes. 

_’God. When did we get so old?’_

Akira really did find it shocking, just how drastic of a change time could make. He sees a photo of Yusuke, and thinks of how much his lithe, stick-like frame filled out through the years. It took a lot of insisting and nagging, but Futaba had finally gotten her boyfriend to develop some healthy eating habits.

A grinning face, with tongue hanging out and bleach-blonde hair greets Akira next. Akira remembers that Ryuji dropped the dyed hair on his twentieth birthday, had said it was too unprofessional for the sports journalism internship he’d landed. Ryuji’s new ‘boring’ look had nearly driven Ann mad with laughter.

Akira caresses his features in self reflection. He too, had changed since being a Phantom Thief. His face, once soft and round, had angled out, and given him a more rugged look. Also he guesses fate was just too cruel, not to make his vision worsen, because now he has to wear real glasses instead of fake ones.

He also ended up taking after Sojiro, growing a groomed goatee. He was always a bit hesitant about it, but Ann had always reassured him, saying it was suave and gentle looking. His old caretaker had never seen his new look, but Akira worries he’d make fun of his scrappy attempt.

_’Oh the irony.’_

His paranoid eyes shift around, solely out of habit. He doubts any nosy passerby would recognize them anyways. He plucks out his university ID, revealing the small photograph hidden beneath. 

Despite its tiny size, the photo always weighs heavily on Akira’s mind. It shows one of the few times Akira felt one with the universe, like everything was right with his life. The picture was of him and a certain detective, sitting at the counter at Leblanc, playing a round of chess. 

He caresses a gentle thumb over it and places the precious memento back in its proper spot. That photo is Akira's greatest treasure. It reminds him to live in the present, to live a life good enough for the both of them. 

_’I think I'm doing a pretty good job of that. I just hope you've finally found peace wherever you are, Goro.’_

He closes his wallet solemnly, before noting something odd to himself.

It seemed a little too thin. In fact with how much space is left in his pocket, Akira was guessing it didn't have any money in at all. 

_’Oh. Shit.’_

He rifles through it a second time, before gulping.

Akira, once a legendary thief that terrorized Tokyo, had somehow lost all his money. Had years of studying social work at university turned him into a softie?

Not wanting to be a free-loader, Akira pulls his phone out and starts to cancel his ride. He doesn't think it'll be much of an inconvenience for Edo. The guy was already fifteen minutes late, so he seemed to have bailed.

His finger is moments away from pushing cancel, before a maroon blur comes to a slow stop, tires squealing. 

"Uber for Akira."

Akira stares at the car with incredulity. Twenty minutes... His driver was twenty minutes late!

Akira’s eye twitches. 

"Yeah, that's me." Akira speaks in a harried tone, not bothering to keep his frustration done.

"What are you waiting for? Hop in." The driver has his customer service voice on, the kind that's filled with flattery and devoid of anything genuine. Akira still can't believe Edo showed up. “Unless you like getting soaked."

Wanting refuge from the torrential downpour, Akira climbs in the car, despite knowing he has no cash for the fare.

"The app says you’re headed to Shibuya?"

"Yup." 

Akira isn‘t really looking at his driver. He‘s too busy figuring out how to pay for this ride. 

Akira was a former Phantom Thief. He's confident he can weasel a free Uber ride.

* * *

They're twenty minutes into their ride, when Akira's phone dies. He sighs, robbed of the one thing he could do to kill time. Akira finally gets a chance to look at this Edo, and what he sees makes his mouth go dry.

The driver‘s eyes are a faint maroon, and he has a lithe, almost androgynous facial structure. He has long chestnut brown hair, but it’s tied back in a ponytail. His face is set in an emotionless, apathetic line, covered with a five o-clock shadow. He seems tired, drained of the ability to give a shit.

A white puffer jacket with red accents and a gold tinted zipper adorns him. Usually it would seem like a fairly stylish coat, but the white is a faded, tired shade. It looks like it came from a thrift store and gives off the impression that Edo doesn’t really care for appearances. 

_’He... kind of reminds me of Akechi.’_

A blaring, drawn-out honk ends Akira's silent observing. "Okay, no blinkers. I can go fuck myself I guess!" Edo blurts out, slamming a fist onto the console.

 _'Okay... not so much maybe'_ Goro had always been so in control of himself, he never dropped that facade. _'At least until he broke down...'_ His breath hitches. That memory still stings. Even years later, the engine room still fills Akira's gut with guilt.

But the point stood. Goro Akechi wouldn't be caught dead losing his cool about something as minor as being cut off. Akira sighs contently, staring at Edo. Seeing someone who looks like his missing crush cuss and explode is honestly... sexy in a warped way.

”God. Look at all these pussy-sucking pricks. Doesn’t anyone in Japan know how to drive?!” The driver bellows, as he flips the passing car off. “Fucking infuriating!” 

Akira starts trembling a little as he indulges in the sight of his driver. They started their trip during rush hour, and it seems to be getting to Edo. He can hardly go two minutes without huffing, or spitting some vulgar rant out. The horn echoes again as Edo smacks it.

 _’God he’s such a hothead, huh?’_ Akira observes to himself, wondering if Goro would act like this driver, had he not gone missing. His eyes take in the driver’s physique, and okay... even through the puffer jacket and jeans, Akira can appreciate that sculpted build. 

A rough, confused voice interrupts Akira’s ogling. 

“You’re staring at me.” Edo, who had been observing his passenger through the rear-view mirror, points out.

_’Shit.’_

A faint red dusts Akira’s face. “I was just intrigued by your...,” He waves his hand, finding it difficult to explain. “Your interesting way with words.” Akira finishes with a sarcastic deadpan.

Edo’s alabaster cheeks glow as well, as he huffs out a bashful excuse, one hand leaving the steering wheel to scratch his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that. I try to tone it down for work, but I’ve always had anger issues.”

Akira knows its none of his business, but he can’t help his curiosity. “Why work a job like this then? Wouldn’t you be better suited for something less... hospitality based?”

His driver rolls his eyes, and if Akira wasn’t such a laid back person, it would’ve annoyed him. “Yeah, well no other job provides the benefits this one does.”

Akira hums. “Really? What do you mean?”

”Heh. What are we playing, twenty questions?” The driver scoffs, as he exits the highway. “This job lets me work my own hours, and I don’t do well with bosses...” Edo lets out a nervous laugh. “Or society in general, I guess.”

The answer just creates even more questions for Akira. What did Edo mean? Why doesn’t he do well with people? More importantly why does Akira’s gut instinct tell him this guy is hiding something?

The car slows to a stop at a crosswalk, as Edo offers more about himself. “My main goal right now is to survive as a freeter.”

Akira blinks. The word sounds somewhat familiar. “A what?”

”A freeter. Someone who’s underemployed. No job prospects, no education, nothing going on.” Edo’s tone is proud, almost smug despite the somewhat embarrassing confession.

”I’m sorry? I hope you find something worthwhile soon...” Akira mutters, confused by Edo’s entire vibe. He can’t imagine having no ambitions or goals, but Edo sounds almost happy about it. 

Edo barks out a hard laugh. “Don’t be! This life beats the last job I had as some douchey Diet member’s assistant.”

Akira’s eyes widen. “You worked for a politician?! That must’ve paid well...”

Edo smirks. “Oh, it definitely did, Akira. But I would rather be homeless than go back to that torture.”

Akira is about to press for more answers, when Edo beats him to it. “So I guess it’s my turn then. What are your plans for this weird chaotic thing called life?”

Akira doesn’t miss a beat before replying. “Well, I’m studying to become a childrens’ therapist.” He doesn’t miss how Edo stiffens at that tidbit. 

”Why?” A curt, almost accusatory response from Edo.

Akira has no trouble giving his reason, after all his experiences with the Metaverse showed him just how trapped and helpless children could be. And even if he couldn’t be a Phantom Thief anymore, he still wanted to help somehow.

”I guess I just like helping people with nobody to turn to. Shouldn’t we all want to make the world a better place and-“

A shrill, grating laugh interrupts Akira’s spiel. “God! Talk about a hero complex!”

Akira’s gaze hardens, and anger starts to bubble up. “Why? Is there a problem with that, _Edo_?”

Edo brakes suddenly, the momentum jolts Akira forward. The driver whistles a jovial tune, before pulling into a parking lot. The car slows to a dead stop. 

Edo shifts towards his passenger, and gives him a look of pure, unbridled coldness. It sends shivers down Akira’s spine. “The problem is, that you’ve become nothing more than a weak, pathetic, faceless member of the masses, _Akira Kurusu_.”

The driver unbuckles his seatbelt, and leans over grasping Akira by the back of the head, before slamming his lips into his.

Akira’s mind can no longer focus on anything else but the warm, soft lips clashing against his and one solitary, repeated thought.

_’He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive-‘_

Everything about this kiss is painfully familiar. The way Goro takes charge, and pushes forward. A ferocious, teeth-clattering dance between lovers, that pauses Akira’s perception of time. 

The kiss is broken, and Akira mewls and pants at the loss of sensation. Goro lets a sinful laugh leave as he backs off. “Well, looks like you haven’t lost your talent for submitting to me, Joker.”

”I... I... What? How?!” Akira babbles, train of thought gone at the return of a certain ace detective. 

”We’ll catch up later, after all I’ve just driven you to Shibuya, and that comes out to be.... 6000 yen.” Goro answers with a teasing smirk.

Akira just stares. How could his missing boyfriend be so composed at seeing him again?!

”I... don’t have any money on me.”

Goro’s grin just widens. He reaches across Akira and pops open the glove compartment, tossing its contents into Akira’s lap. 

”That’s fine, honey.” Goro ogles Akira’s form, whistling in admiration. “My, you’ve only gotten prettier over the years... I love that beard by the way.” He stretches a hand out, and strokes his lover’s facial hair. “Makes you look rugged.” 

”Thanks. Your stubble’s nice.” Akira squeaks out, as he makes out the item on his lap. An unopened bottle of lubricant. 

Out of the car window, he can spot some salary man smoking a cigarette. Akira’s scandalized gaze moves to meet Akechi’s lusting eyes. “Goro... we can’t! This is a really busy parking lot!” 

“Oh? That is a shame, love.” Goro sighs, shaking his head playfully. “I mean, this is my job. I’m not about to give you my phone number, unless you pay for the fare.” 

Akira’s mind is torn. On one hand, the parking lot is pretty risky, there’s a good amount of traffic moving across it. On the other hand, he just found out his missing boyfriend is alive, and the warm relief is clouding his logical side.

Goro clicks his tongue a few times. “C’mon Akira. Did you lose all your sense of adventure when the metaverse faded away?” Goro unzips and tugs his pants, shoving a hand inside to get at his cock. “Live a little, _Joker_!”

Akira whines. At this point, seeing his missing lover alive and desperate for sex, makes it impossible for him to hold back his urges. He slides his belt off and tosses it to the back seat, before yanking his pants and briefs down in one fast motion.

He squeezes a load of lubricant onto his hand, and starts to stretch himself quickly, wanting to get the job done fast, so he can feel Goro inside, can realize this isn’t just another god forsaken dream.

That infuriatingly suave chuckle from years ago sounds, making Akira gasp and tremble. “My, my...so obedient, Akira. That’s what I always loved about you.” Akechi grunts, as his hand pumps his hard cock at a steady pace. “You like to act all rebellious and fiery, but deep down you love obeying me, right?”

Akira gasps as he hears Goro’s familiar snarkiness, pushing a second finger deep inside. The warm fullness makes Akira grunt. The simple fact that Goro had left the motor running, means the seat _vibrates_. And god does that amplify Akira’s baser urges.

”That’s it love. Stretch yourself wide and full for my cock.” Akechi smiles at the sight of Akira’s thrusting fingers. A toothy, feral, leer. Something Akira had never seen before. Akechi cackles through a moan, as his hand twists around his throbbing cock. “You’d better do it well. Because… “ Goro pauses to lick his lips. “After so long without you, I can’t promise I can be gentle.” 

”Nnngh! Akechi!” Akira moans as he scissors himself, eager to finish the lengthy process, so Goro can finally fill him. He’s so riled up that he actually bounces off of his fingers, ass lifting up, free hand clawing at the dashboard maniacally. “I, fuck, Goro! I missed you so much!” Akira shouts.

”I as well. God you’re gorgeous.” Akira just pants, eyes entirely focused on Goro’s beaming smile. After years apart, Goro still loves him, and wants to remind him with brutal, physical love-making.

Akira’s up to four fingers now, twisting and pumping them through noisy, wet squelches. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck!”_ ” Akira mewls a rapid series of desperate yelps. His eyes start to water, and his mouth hangs slack. 

_’I’m… I’m ready for it.’_ Akira thinks through a lewd rush, about to slide his fingers out, before a rough hand grabs him by the hair and thrusts him downwards.

The forces slams Akira’s hips downwards, making his fingers reach deeper, rubbing against his sensitive insides and a rather sensitive walnut-sized bundle. Akira melts, as the sudden stimulation goes straight to his cock. Muffled groans slip past his lips, chanting appreciation like a mantra. “Goro! Aaahhh! I need more!”

Goro gives an airy, teasing giggle. “Mmmm. Did that feel as good as it sounded?” Akira nods. Or would have, had his face not been pressed tight against Goro’s crotch, trapped there by a former detective’s powerful hand. He shifts his eyes upwards, just barely able to take in the sinful sneer stretched across the freeter’s face. The brunet bends over, and breathes hot and heavy into Akira’s ear. “Heh, sorry, love. I just saw some people strolling by, and figured we wouldn’t want to attract any unwelcome observers.” 

A sudden rush overwhelms Akira, as he sucks in a quick breath. He starts to shake, as thoughts of being exposed, being caught in such a depraved and shameless situation, race through his mind. He can’t help the warped anticipation at just the idea of being discovered by some random onlooker.

Always one to notice details, Akechi laughs a little, his lover’s desires an open book to him. “Wow. Did you see that doctor walking by? She was awfully close...”

Akira’s face glows as red as his old persona. “G-goro!” He starts to pant like a dog.

Akechi doesn’t let up, always one to take sadistic glee in ravaging Akira’s body and mind. “Were it not for the cold weather, she would have seen you!” He leans down, and nips an earlobe, using his teeth to yank at a studded, silver, J-shaped piercing. Akira gasps and starts to grind his cock against the center console he’s been laid over. Akechi hums, spicing his voice up. “Utterly debauched, fingers shoved down that slutty ass, submitting to me like a wanting whore.”

A vulgar, obscene noise is torn from Akira’s throat. His mouth just hangs open, drool dripping out, filthy desires laid bare by his lover. 

”My, that was quite the moan Akira.” He looks to his lover, pleased to see the blank stare in his eyes, mind ready to be toyed with by the one he trusted most. 

”Shhh… stay silent for me Akira, we’ll have to wait for these passerby to leave.” Goro whispers, still keeping his lover out of view.

Being so close to Goro’s pulsing cock forces Akira near a familiar scent. A lavender, luxurious fragrance with just a tinge of rosebud. Goro’s body wash. Yet it’s mixed with the musky smell of sweat. That, combined with Goro being preoccupied with watching out for accidental voyeurs, ignites an impulse inside the former barista. He was tired of submitting to the former detective. 

He wriggles his head around, and plants a few fleeting kisses along Goro’s thigh.

”Ahhh. Akira.” Goro whimpers, finally being undone by Akira for a change. Akechi’s hand slides out of the raven’s hair, and Akira starts to nip and suck, making a point to let his goatee tickle and tease Goro’s bare skin.

Goro lets a few more sounds that make Akira proud. Stuttering, and twisting his body around, former bravado vanishing without a trace.

“Heh, Like the beard, honey?” Akira asks in a suave tone, delighted to finally have a little control over the situation.

”Mmm. It does feel rather nnngh!” Akechi cocks his head back, as a particularly rough hickey is sucked into his upper thigh. He pants a little, managing only a weak “n-nice.”

 _’Oh, dear. This is gonna leave a mark.’_ Akira thinks as he pulls off. His eyes shine at the beautiful, glowing splotch on Akechi’s milky skin. He looks to his lover, careful to keep his head out of sight, and smiles at what he sees. 

Goro is leaning backwards powerlessly, hands clenching the steering wheel in a desperate attempt to seem inconspicuous to onlookers. His cock stands erect at attention, flushed red and dripping precome steadily. It looked on the brink. Akira grins innocently. “So, still too busy out there to get on with the main event?” 

”Yeah, goddamnit.” Akechi hisses through clenched teeth. “There’s some lady talking on her phone just one spot over. So stay quiet and out of sight for now, okay Akira?”

Akira blinks a few times, teasing Goro’s twitching cock with a warm, sinful breath. ”Yeah, no need to worry, Goro. You’re talking to a legendary Phantom Thief, remember?”

“Don’t you mean therapist in training?” Akechi just huffs. “God, I certainly didn’t miss that damn ego.”

Akira’s growing smirk makes Akechi wary. ”Yeah, well you be quiet too, kay Akechi?” He raises his head just a little, eyes fixated on Goro’s cock.

”What are you plan-GAH!” The rest of Goro’s sentence is interrupted by heavenly warmth.

Akira had engulfed Akechi’s cock in one quick, wanton swallow. He wastes no time, in using his mouth to ruin Goro's infuriating composure. He laps the head teasingly with the tip of his tongue, and gives the sides of the cock long, lavishing licks - like he were sucking on a Popsicle.

Without delay, Akechi starts to rut his hips up into Akira’s face. The pleasure was just too maddening for him to stay still. Akira smirks around the cock, satisfied with Goro’s lustful thrusts. Goro clasps at the gear shift. Whether it was to get more leverage, or to keep himself from flying off into heaven, Goro’s really not sure. 

Akira giggles a little, a sound that nearly makes Goro come on its own. "Okay, Akira! Slow down!" Akechi hisses, as he starts buck even faster into Akira’s mouth, like a bitch in heat. "I... I can't hold on! Nnngh!" 

Akira hollows his cheeks, and twists his tongue around the powerless shaft, overwhelming Goro with slick, heated pleasure. He's enjoying this too much, unraveling his lover after years of missing him. He looks to Goro, and simply winks. He isn't planning on letting up.

Goro tugs a hand into Akira's hair, as his shoulders begin to tremble. Akira bobs his head, fitting all of Akechi's length in that hot, delightful, heaven of a mouth. "You, you _gorgeous_ little minx. It feels too good!!" Goro's resolve breaks, and he releases long and powerful into the raven's mouth, repeating his name over and over again. He orgasms with such strength, that he sees a yellow glaring light.

Akira, who had been basking in the warm, white treat with eyes serenely closed, flinches at the sight as well. A burning, bright, industrial-strength glare. Dread pools in his stomach.

**”AKIRA KURUSU! WHY?! WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING??!!”**

Through mortified, panicking eyes, Akira can make out familiar features on the officer holding the flashlight. Deep, brown, flowing hair, and ruby-red eyes adorned the intruder. A stern, but soft facial structure that was akin to a scolding mother threw a curve-ball right into Akira's temple. Makoto Nijima. Makoto Nijima, now a police officer, had caught Akira with Goro's unmentionables shoved deep down his throat.

With the fear of God put in him, Akira jolts off of Goro's penis. As if things couldn’t get worse, the spent cock lets out one more burst- coating Akira’s face. He resolutely swallows the come, and wipes the remainder on his sleeve. He yanks his pants up as fast as possible, but there's no way Makoto didn't see everything.

Makoto sighs before turning the flashlight off. "Really? I got a call about indecent exposure..."

At Makoto's disappointed scowl, Akira can do nothing but spit out incomprehensible gibberish, more akin to speaking in tongues than a proper explanation for his depraved shamelessness.

Makoto just grimaces, shaking her head. "This is just ridiculous, Akira! You visit for the first time in years, and I find you like this?!" Still she laughs a little, and Akira thinks maybe, just maybe, they'll get off scot-free. After all, they were close friends.

She turns to Akira's companion, staring daggers. "And who are you?"

Akira's desperate gaze flies to Akechi, who was still meticulously wiping his dripping cock off. He slipped it back inside and yanked his jeans back up. He looks at Makato. Then Akira. Then Makato. Then with Akira again, this time holding eye contact. Slowly, a devious leer forms on the driver's face.

 _'Oh. Shit.'_ Akira remembers vividly this expression. The one Goro gave when he was feeling merciless. Akin to the day he revealed that he knew their identities.

Akira sits there, waving his arms haplessly- a desperate silent signal: _'Please, please, please! Lie. Like. A. Dog.'_

Goro just gives his long-lost lover that trademark shit-eating grin, before shrugging nonchalantly and practically bellowing. "We're destined to be together, right Akira? We should be proud of each other, _'beloved'_." He speaks with exaggerated joy, tacking on a humiliating endearment.

Much to Akira's horror, Goro reaches out through the car window and practically magnetizes the confused officer into a handshake, before uttering the worst thing possible. 

"Hello, there Officer Nijima-san! I'm his Uber driver, Goro Akechi. Pleasure to meet you!"

Akira doesn’t think he’s ever seen Makoto faint before.


End file.
